


don't you don't you wish you never never met her?

by Aaronlisa



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Implied Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8889535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaronlisa/pseuds/Aaronlisa
Summary: Edith is a golden butterfly. Lucille wants her.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [piggy09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/gifts).



> The title comes from PJ Harvey's song "Rid of Me."

Alan had saved her. 

Physically at least. She was lost and alone. Adrift in her grief once more. And although he had wed her and claimed her child as his own to prevent gossip since the secrets of Allerdale Hall were no longer well kept, she could not help but feel imprisoned in the comfort of her martial bed that she shared with Alan. More imprisoned than she had felt when she had been a prisoner of Allerdale Hall. 

It was something that she did not bother explaining to her husband. The one or two times that they had talked about what had happened during her first marriage, he had advised her to put the unpleasant of those experiences either out of her mind or on the pages of her novels. It was not easy to push those memories out of her mind nor put it on the page. She had tried with her first novel and had found moderate success. But there was much that she could not write nor even tell her husband. 

Crimson Peak had made Lucille the villain of her tale. It had been easy to make her first husband yet another hapless victim of his sister's schemes and insanity. It had been easy to turn Thomas into a lover who had realized in the end that he had wanted her, his wife, desperately. And although there was something of the truth in her tale; in the end Crimson Peak was a pretty collection of lies meant to sell to an audience that craved ghosts, romance and redemption. 

She could not tell Alan the very complicated truth of the matter. She could not write it on a page in a story to sell to a publisher. The real tale was complicated and far more sordid than what she had written. It was awful enough that the people they surrounded themselves in London knew something of the truth, it would be horrific if they had learned all of the truth. 

Alan had saved her when she had needed to be saved, when she was lost and adrift in a sea of guilt and grief. But there are times when she wonders if it would have been better for her to stay in Allerdale Hall surrounded by ghosts and her memories. 

* * * 

_The plan had been for Thomas to seduce and wed the plain and simple Eunice McMichael. The girl would have a substantial dowry and her family had connections. Her mother was so determined to have her daughter marry into nobility. And her father had no clue as to the mechanics of Thomas' machine. He would invest in it and the three of them would return to England. Eunice would give Thomas a child or two. And then sadly she would fall victim to the dark and cold of the ancestral home of the Sharpes. Either directly from child birth or from some lingering malady. By the time, dear Eunice's family arrived, she would be dead in her grave._

_And then Thomas had to change the course of everything. His eye had to catch upon the pretty and delicate Edith. A beautiful, golden butterfly of a girl. She was rich and lovely. She wasn't spoiled but instead intelligent and sensitive. Delicate and fragile in a way that Thomas couldn't begin to understand. Eunice was vastly different from Edith. Eunice was a conniving adult who wanted to find a husband who would give her a title, even one who had no wealth. Eunice wanted the prestige of having a titled husband. Her mother was desperate enough for it that she would pay for the privilege. Edith was a sweet child, trusting and innocent. Lucille doubted that the girl even realized what would be expected of her in the marital bed._

_Of course, Thomas didn't understand what he asked of Lucille when he begged her to stay the course when it came to Edith, even in the face of her father's utter rejection of them. It broke Lucille's heart when Edith ran from the table and Thomas followed her to break her heart. She had never felt this way before with any of the other women who had been Thomas' wives before._

_Not for the first time, Lucille wished that their roles were reversed. That she was the man and Thomas the woman. It would be easier. Yet she could not deny her brother anything._

_Not even a sweet, golden, innocent butterfly._

* * * 

When Thomas and Edith returned from their night away, Lucille was consumed with jealousy. Edith could not understand it. She had thought that Lucille would be happy for her. Happy that she was finally a wife in the truest sense of the word. Lucille's jealousy was a palatable thing. Edith could taste the bitterness of the other woman's emotion. It hung heavy in the air and it hurt her. And it wasn't something that she could question her husband or her sister-in-law about. For the first time in her life, she wished for the cruelty of Mrs. McMichael who would surely understand what she could not. Mrs. McMichael could explain what she did not understand. 

Mrs. McMichael who had poorly filled in as a mother when it came to womanly things that her father could not handle nor regulate to the female members of the household staff. Over the years, the woman had been both cruel to her yet at times strangely protective of her. She had accepted that Edith would be marrying the man that she had set her sites on for her daughter. Instead of being bitter, Mrs. McMichael had helped to plan the wedding whilst trying to prepare Edith for her new role. 

Mrs. McMichael who had tried to warn her from marrying Thomas and then rushing to England and Allerdale Hall where Lucille awaited them. And when Edith would not be deterred because she had thought that Mrs. McMichael was jealous that she was marrying Thomas instead of Eunice, the older woman had stiffly told her that Edith should not expect to be the mistress of her new home. She had tried to warn her that Edith would be entering another woman's domain. 

But it had not mattered. She only wanted for Thomas' happiness. And if Lucille ran the house to Thomas' standards, then she would be content to let Lucille continue to do so for as long as she wanted. For Edith, she had gained a husband and a sister. Yet Thomas was colder upon their arrival to Allerdale Hall. He was only ever truly warm when it came to Allerdale Hall and the mines. 

Oh he said pretty words to her, called her his love and his darling, but he was detached. It was Lucille who was affectionate. Lucille who embraced her as a sister when she first arrived. Lucille who had embraced her after Edith had kissed her upon the cheek. Lucille who acted more the husband than Thomas did. 

But upon their return from the post office and their night away, Lucille had become cold. Brittle and cold. And it had hurt. Edith had not believed that Lucille had been frantically worried about them. Her jealousy was raw and full of something more. If Edith didn't know better it was as if Lucille was the jealous wife. But of whom, Edith couldn't determine. 

* * * 

_Lucille had tried to give Edith what she thought that the girl needed. An older sister to protect her from the ghosts of Allerdale Hall. She had been against feeding her the tea but Thomas had forged ahead for the first time with any of his brides. It was as if he could not be rid of this wife quickly enough. As if he found her more dangerous than the trivial girls who had come before._

_Lucille had argued that a few drops of laudanum in her evening tea would keep the girl docile. And Lucille could tell that Edith was afraid of Thomas and his passion. The girl wanted the comfort of a husband to hold her and caress her but she did not want the passion of the same husband. She had tried to use Edith's grief for her father as a deterrent. The girl wouldn't want something from Thomas when she still mourned her beloved father._

_A drop or two of laudanum would keep Edith sweet, pliable and docile. And nothing would need to change. Lucille argued that keeping Edith alive would benefit them in the end but Thomas was like a devil. He was determined to ruin the girl._

_And then he came home reeking of lust and Lucille hated him. He had defiled the girl he had claimed he had only wanted for her vast wealth. He had made Lucille kill so that he could marry the girl. He wanted Lucille to poison her. To feed her cup after cup of bitter tea that would make her bleed from the inside. He wanted Lucille to destroy her like one of the black moths that slowly destroyed the heavy tapestries and velvets that covered the walls and windows of the Hall._

_Yet even as he urged Lucille to move forward with their plans, Lucille could see how he burned hot for the girl one moment but then was cold. Edith was a convenience for him. A play thing that he would grow bored with once he had her wealth at his disposal. Yet Lucille found herself wanting to keep Edith._

_And not for Thomas but for herself. Edith made her feel things that Thomas could never make her feel._

* * * 

For a week, she seemed to recover from whatever malady that had stricken her upon her arrival to Allerdale Hall. And then she became ill. Violently ill. She was weak and tired. Thomas was distant towards her. But Lucille had changed. She was no longer jealous or distant. 

Instead Lucille had become protective of her. She would help her bathe, her hands gentle as she undressed Edith and guided her into the hot water of the bath. Her hands would softly caress her as Lucille bathed her. After her bath, Lucille would wrap her in a warm sheet and dry her before dressing her in a nightgown. Then she would coax Edith to drink beef tea before combing out her hair. 

Thomas was obsessed with his machine. He was rarely around as Edith became sicker with each passing day. But Lucille was there. Every day and most nights. Edith found herself feeling as if she was married to Lucille instead of Thomas. The only time she would see Thomas was first thing in the morning when Lucille would prepare breakfast. Thomas would come in with a cup of bitter tea. He would tell her that the tea had restorative properties and while Edith choked down at least one cup of it, he would regal her with tales of his machinery. 

* * * 

_"You mustn't drink the tea that Thomas brings you."_

_Lucille had watched as Thomas lovingly prepared the cups of poisoned tea for Edith each morning. They had argued over it. And although she had loved her brother with a sinful passion, Lucille found herself becoming ill with the thought of Edith becoming yet another ghost of the Hall. Finally she had asked Thomas one morning, if they could not just keep the girl. She had no apparent desire for her husband and Thomas could sleep with her to beget a heir once she recovered from the tea. It was not too late to reverse his decision. Yet Thomas argued that the girl was too sensitive and if she possessed her full faculties it would bring ruin to them._

_"Thomas says the tea has a restorative effect," Edith replied. "He says that it will help me to overcome this illness that plagues me."_

_"Yet it has not made you any better, perhaps it is aggravating your illness," Lucille suggested._

_"No, it can't be the tea,' Edith had weakly argued._

_Lucille moved closer to the girl. She sat down on the bed and clutched at Edith's hand. The girl's hand was soft and delicate. Lucille could feel a slight callous form her incessant writing, which had slowed down with her illness. She looked into Edith's guileless eyes and she wondered if what she felt was only because Edith was the first of the wives that Thomas had carnally touched. If what she felt was the need to know what about this girl had so captured her brother's eye that he would risk everything that they had planed. Eunice would have been the safer and easier choice than Edith but Thomas had been so insistent._

_But when Edith had squeezed Lucille's hand in return. And she knew that this was not about Thomas at all. This was all about Edith and what she made Lucille feel. A strange passion that even surpassed what Thomas made her feel. Without thought, she had leaned forward and captured Edith's lips in a kiss._

_It was chaste and innocent just like Edith was. And she wanted more, even as Edith gasped in shock and pulled away._

_"Lucille?" Edith asked._

_"Don't drink the tea," Lucille pleaded._

* * * 

Edith felt as if she was being pulled in two directions. On one side was her husband. And on the other. her sister-in-law. At times, they were both cold and sullen towards her. Both of them could act as if she was a burden. Thomas had made mention several times of needing access to her capital. At other times, one or the other would act warmly towards her. Lucille would pet her as if she was a beloved sister or pet. At times, Edith was certain that Lucille would look at her in the way that Thomas had looked at her that night in the post office. And there were times when she was certain that Thomas looked at his sister in the same way that he had looked upon her that night - hungry and desperate. 

She could not understand the way that the siblings made her feel. She felt that she had to want Thomas because he was her husband. Everything that she knew told her that she should feel certain things for her husband: love, desire and fealty. Yet as the weeks turned into month, she found herself feeling what she was supposed to feel for Thomas for Lucille instead. 

It twisted her inside and made her feel sicker than her illness did. And then there were the ghosts. She was confused and weak. She didn't know who to trust or who to turn to. Her husband who had stood by her side when her father had died. Or her oh so very proper sister-in-law who touched her with cold but gentle hands. Who looked at her with desperation in her eyes. 

She felt as if she was standing upon quicksand and no matter what she decided, she would be pulled under where she would suffocate. 

When she had awoken in bed after she had discovered the truth, she wanted to believe that Lucille was the villain when Thomas had warned her from the tea. She wanted to believe that Thomas was the brave and gallant knight that would slay the dragon. It was what she had been taught to believe. She was taught in the sanctity of marriage. Her shared vows with Thomas were supposed to transcend all. Perhaps Thomas had been weak or clueless or obsessed with his machine that he could not understand what was happening. 

By the time that she realized what was happening it was far too late. 

* * * 

_Thomas was so proud of himself. His little butterfly was dying. She knew enough to destroy them but she could not piece it all together. She had drunk far too much of the tea. The cold and damp and excitement would kill her now. Lucille submitted to Thomas' lust and desire because it was all that she knew. The girl had rejected her and she was dying. All she would ever have was Thomas._

_So she fought for it. She fought desperately for it._

_And then the good doctor came to their door. She wanted to let Edith go, let her escape with the doctor who so obviously loved the pretty and golden butterfly. But Thomas would not hear of it. She had argued that no one would believe the word of a pair of colonials. Instead of doing what she had always done, she insisted that Thomas clean up after his mess this time._

_For a moment, she thought of letting them go. But she could not allow the doctor to leave with her Edith. She had grabbed Edith to prevent her from following the doctor. She had given Thomas the knife and when she should have done the job herself. Edith was obviously stronger than either of them thought. They could resort to her plan - drops of laudanum to keep her calm, sweet and docile and eventually their pretty little golden butterfly would adjust to her new life._

_Lucille had sensed the girl's confusion when she had pressed chaste kisses upon her face, when she had petted her, and touched her in places that she doubted even Thomas had touched. If she could make her forget, But she knew it was a dream._

_Thomas would never allow for her to keep Edith. Drugged or otherwise. Thomas would never allow another to come between them. Even if he wanted Edith as much as Lucille did, he would not allow her to live. So she hardened her heart against Edith, even as she cut off the lock her hair and braided it. She confessed to the girl what she had never confessed to anyone else._

_Lucille left out the fact that with Edith, she had felt that she could have a pure and innocent love. Instead of the tainted and impure love that she and Thomas had shared. And she did everything that she could to make the girl hate her. It would be so much easier if Lucille hated her, if she fought her._

_And as it was all falling apart, Lucille hated herself. She hated Thomas. And most of all, she hated Edith. She rued the day that Thomas had ever laid eyes upon her. Things would have been so different if Thomas had stayed true to their original plan._

_When Thomas admitted that he had fallen in love. She hated him, she wanted him dead. Yet she wanted the same for herself. For just as he had betrayed her, she had betrayed him. She had fallen in love with Edith as deeply as her brother had. She understood now. She saw it clearly._

_And the only way that they could all have any peace was if they were all dead. In death, they would be free and able to love one another purely. But Edith had to die, she could not leave. She could not leave them._

* * * 

There are things that she remembers with such clarity in the few months of her life at Allerdale Hall. She can remember how gentle Lucille was during her illness. How Lucille had tenderly touched her when her whole body felt like it was aflame. She can recall the gentle press of Lucille's lips against her own. She can recall Lucille's soothing touch as she ran her fingers along the bruises that Thomas' passion had made against her skin. She can recall how Lucille had made a sound of displeasure when she had seen the bruises on her hips. 

Of all these things, she can remember the last thing that Lucille had said as she died in her arms. As she bled out from the wound that Edith had caused in her stomach. Lucille had thanked her for releasing her. 

* * * 

_Thomas was dead. He was gone._

_"I won't stop until you kill me or I kill you,"_

_She had raised her weapon with her shaky arms. She had grunted and Edith had stumbled. Her weapon fell to the ground as the knife was thrust forward._

_"Thank you little butterfly," Lucille whispered._

_And when Edith had escaped on the arm of the dashing Dr. McMichael, Lucille had watched alone from the attic. Her death had released the other ghosts. And she was alone. She wanted to beg Edith to stay._

* * * 

Alan has saved her. 

But he can't begin to fathom his pretty, golden wife. She is strong and delicate at the same time. He wants to see her only as the girl he first fell in love with when they were just children. He allows her time to recuperate in England, to accept his marriage proposal, to give birth to a beautiful daughter that he willingly and gladly gives his name to, and he allows her to turn her grief into a novel. 

When he reads it, it horrifies him. He can read between the lines. Although she has taken the conventional route and turned her sister-in-law into the villain of the tale, Alan knows the truth. There are times when lies in bed at night with Edith in his arms when he wonders if Edith even realizes how she truly felt for the Sharpes.

He starts to regret his mother's avarice. If his mother hadn't been so enamoured with giving Eunice a titled husband, perhaps Edith would be still unwed and safe with her beloved father. He knows that he can't compete with a ghost. 

Edith is sweet and she has convinced herself that she loves him with all of her heart. But he knows the truth. There is a part of her that wishes that things had been different. He is glad that when they finally leave England that Lucille's ghost stays in Allerdale Hall. 

((END))


End file.
